


The Sweetest Submission

by ashembie



Series: i like the thrill of under me you so quite new [2]
Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashembie/pseuds/ashembie
Summary: That Laurence can’t bring himself to name the act that they are discussing is maybe an indication that he shouldn’t agree. But if it is something Granby likes, then Laurence is inclined to try. After all, Granby has not led him astray yet.
Relationships: John Granby/William Laurence
Series: i like the thrill of under me you so quite new [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804603
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	The Sweetest Submission

**Author's Note:**

> this took way longer than I expected so _here_ pls just take it 
> 
> title from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + the Machine

John Granby is simultaneously the most selfish and the most _selfless_ lover Laurence has ever taken to bed. He is brazen about asking for what he wants, with a frequency and intensity that only increases when Laurence admits his own scant experience. 

After stumbling his way through his frugal sexual history which was limited to hurried encounters on ship, and slightly longer dalliances when ashore, Granby decides it is his life’s mission to make their time in bed good. And it is, outrageously so. The friction that had sparked between them when they first met made for excellent intimate chemistry. When Laurence remains uncertain about how to proceed Granby goads him into following his instincts, and so far, all the results have been spectacular. 

But more importantly, Laurence discovers the delight of slow, languid kisses, and hands that wander just for the pleasure of feeling, not to excite. They speak of soft things, happy things, deliberately keeping their worldly troubles out of their bed. They also speak of things that do result in hands wandering with purpose, and as such neither of them have had more than a handful of hours of sleep since their romantic relationship had started. Thankfully, no one has made much of their change in status, save for Chenery winking at them so often that Laurence truly believes the man will develop a twitch. 

One such night, they lay with sweat cooling on their bodies, the window cracked open to let in fresh air. Laurence allows himself the indulgence of sprawling across Granby's chest, tucking his face into his neck, and enjoying the sensation of fingers running through his hair. Granby’s other hand was lightly running up and down Laurence’s spine, fingertips ghost-touching his sensitive skin and making him shiver. Satisfaction has Laurence humming deep in his chest; he’s becoming more feline by the minute.

Granby makes his touch a little firmer, pressing along the ridges in Laurence’s spine. It reminds Laurence of the massage Granby had given him another night, where he reduced him to nothing more than a well-relaxed puddle on the bed. Granby had made some quip about stress being the only thing that kept Laurence upright and functioning, and after having every muscle in his back lovingly squeezed and pummelled, Laurence is willing to concede he might have been a little tense. At this moment he is exquisitely relaxed, but he is more than happy to accept another massage.

The hand in his hair gives one final stroke and then slides down to his waist. Laurence is encouraged to move until he is lying completely on top of Granby, his knees either side of Granby’s thighs. The touches start again, at his shoulders, down his back and waist, then Granby fits both hands on Laurence's hips. At the same time his lips touch Laurence’s forehead. Laurence responds in kind, kissing Granby’s neck. 

“I was thinking,” Granby murmurs into Laurence’s hairline, “About your objection to that specific act we discussed.”

Laurence feels his pulse kick up a notch.

“Do you still object?” There is no judgement or resentment in Granby’s voice, only mild curiosity. This more than anything allows Laurence to consider the question and eventually reply.

“I remain unconvinced that it is worth overcoming my objection,” He says truthfully. 

“Would you allow me the opportunity to try and convince you?” Granby asks, still in that even tone, “Considering how long we kept everyone else from their bathing tonight, I expect you are cleaner than you ever have been in your life.”

“I - well -” Laurence stutters and then stops entirely when one of Granby’s wandering hands wanders down between Laurence’s buttocks. His blush intensifies as Granby makes a pleased hum in his throat that Laurence feels in his lips. Granby has touched him there before certainly, but not with such lingering appreciation. 

“I believe,” Granby says, the pads of his fingers lightly stroking the sensitive skin, “That your objections were justified when you were first prepositioned - bathing on-board ship is not at all sufficient to allow it.”

The heat in Laurence’s cheeks is nigh unbearable.

“But I would argue that now is the best time to make an attempt,” He continues, calm and casual, as if they were sitting at the table talking, as if his fingers were not where they were, “And if it truly is not to your liking, I will say no more about it. I only wish for you to make an informed decision before ruling it out completely.”

A very distant part of Laurence’s mind is more than a little outraged at the diplomacy Granby is employing here. This level-headed and appeasing speech would have been a Godsend in dealing with situations such as the fury of Lord Barham and a line of seasoned Marines; but with their guns all trained on the ones most dear to him, Laurence could and had forgiven Granby for his rash actions. Still, it was quite galling to discover that Granby did in fact possess the ability to devise a strategy before he spoke, and that he was using it to sweet talk Laurence in bed.

Then, even those faint thoughts were drowned out by Granby returning his hand to it’s previous place on Laurence’s hip. There is silence. Laurence opens his eyes to see Granby looking expectantly at him. 

Laurence scrambles for his words. _Any_ words.

“Do _you_ enjoy it?” Those were not the words Laurence meant to say. 

“It is my favourite gift to give - and to receive,” Comes the reply.

Laurence jolts.

“You - you have - received?”

“Several times,” Granby says simply, and those two words are a much more effective argument than their previous discussion. Laurence knows this is not Granby’s intent, but his experience has unknowingly made Laurence feel foolish for his resolute objections, “Believe me when I say I know how to make it _good_ for you Laurence.”

Laurence gulps; he doesn’t know if his stomach is twisting from revulsion or anticipation.

“Do you enjoy… giving, as much as receiving?” He asks weakly. That he can’t bring himself to name the act that they are discussing is maybe an indication that he shouldn’t agree. But if it is something Granby likes, then Laurence is inclined to try. After all, Granby has not led him astray yet.

“Yes,” Granby says; his previous mild tone has been replaced with something low and heated that sets a spark in Laurence’s gut, “I would perhaps argue that giving someone that pleasure is better than receiving it myself. But then, I find I prefer servicing to being serviced in bed.”

“Service?” Laurence, having so recently found his footing, is beginning to feel out of his depth again. Wasn’t lovemaking an act of cooperation? Or should one person be the servant and the other the master each time? Do they swap and perform each role equally?

“Maybe _worship_ would be a better term,” Granby muses, “But we can talk about that another time - I won’t be distracted from my original question, despite how much I am looking forward to continuing your education.”

Laurence huffs and digs his fingers into Granby’s ribs, making him yelp.

“I am not a schoolboy requiring tutelage, John,” He says tartly.

“No sir, “ Granby agrees, and gets another jab to the side for his cheek, “But my question has still gone unanswered; will you let me? Either you discover an unexpected pleasure, or, if you hate it even for a moment, I will stop, and you get to say 'I told you so', and we can never speak of it again."

“What satisfaction is there for you?” Laurence asks, after a moment of consideration.

“None whatsoever,” Granby says innocently, almost managing to keep a smirk off the edges of his mouth. "Unless you count the satisfaction of seeing you driven out of your mind with ecstasy from nothing but my tongue."

“Christ,” Laurence says under his breath; all the blood rushing to his face is giving him a headache. Then, louder, “Alright. I would like to try it.”

Satisfaction gleams in Granby’s eyes. For a moment Laurence imagines this is how a sheep feels when faced with Temeraire’s teeth, but then Granby tilts his head up with a hand under his jaw and kisses all thoughts of Temeraire out of his head. He’s eager, Laurence realises, and makes Granby groan when he slips his tongue into his mouth. Granby wants this more than Laurence previously understood. Did he really enjoy this act so much?

The bed is not so large that they can roll around with impunity; there is a little awkward rearrangement in reversing their position and getting Laurence’s back on the mattress. Laurence accidentally kicks Granby in the knee, but Granby just laughs a little and nips Laurence’s lower lip in retaliation. 

Laurence distracts himself from the nerves broiling in his chest with the loveliness of Granby’s hair in his hands; chocolate brown and surprisingly soft, Laurence often finds himself drawn to the perpetually mussed bird’s nest. He concentrates fully on how the strands of hair catch on the calluses of his fingers, and the appreciative noises the attention creates.

Meanwhile, Granby slowly slides his hands all over Laurence’s ass in a series of vulgar caresses; what can only be described as a whine comes out of Laurence as he pushes into the touch. Granby breaks the kiss, breathless, and slips two of his fingers into Laurence’s mouth. His blush intensifies as he obediently suckles on the digits and draws a pleased hum from Granby. Granby’s obsession with Laurence’s lips is really quite obscene. 

“Will,” Granby sighs, the pads of his fingers stroking Laurence’s tongue, “Won’t you turn over for me?” He asks, his thumb lightly running up and down Laurence’s throat. Laurence hums his obedience and Granby slides his fingers out of his mouth achingly slow, savouring the sight. He sits up so that Laurence can lie on his front; he does so, and after a moment of consideration pushes the pillow aside and rests his head on his crossed arms.

The faint scent of mint reaches his nose just as Granby’s hands find his hips again, this time slick with warm oil. The mint leaves a faint tingle on his skin as Granby runs his hands up Laurence’s back to his shoulders, along his upper arms, and then back down again. Under the slow and steady pressure of another massage Laurence relaxes again, and Granby murmurs his approval.

But he says nothing else, and there is silence except for the sound of skin moving on skin and Laurence’s occasional groans of appreciation for another knot in his back receiving attention. Granby has a terribly filthy mouth; Laurence spent his most tender years at sea and is still reduced to blushing when Granby really gets into his stride. He likes to tell Laurence what he’s doing, where he’s going to do it, and exactly how long he will do it for; so letting Laurence wonder like this, letting the anticipation slowly build in his gut, is new, but not unwelcome. 

The first kiss to the nape of his neck makes him flinch.

“Laurence?” Granby asks, concern colouring his voice. 

“You startled me,” Laurence admits.

“If you’re sure -”

“I am,” Laurence says firmly, and only realises the strength in his conviction once he’s spoken. 

“Alright,” Granby murmurs, and drops loving kisses all the way down Laurence’s spine. He lingers at the small of his back to wordlessly encourage Laurence up onto his knees, his fingers stroking the taut skin over his hips. 

More kisses. A slight touch of a hot wet tongue. Then - 

His brow furrows as he works out how he feels about this new sensation. Then Granby gives him a long wet lick from his balls to his base of spine and he startles himself by moaning aloud.

Laurence isn't a vocal lover. Built partially from a lifetime of shared quarters, and partially a preference to hear his partner instead, he usually shows his appreciation for Granby's efforts with love bites, fingertip shaped bruises, and kisses. But now, as Granby crooks his tongue inside him, all thoughts have flown out of his head, and he buries his face in the sheets to stifle the cracked groans emerging from his throat. He can’t find purchase on the bed beneath his feet. Bent over with his ass in the air, he has his fingers clutching into the sheets and his hair falling in his face, _this is ridiculous_ , he thinks vaguely. He should have more self-control, and does his level best to smother another stuttering cry in the fabric of the sheets. It doesn't work at all, and he feels more than he hears Granby laugh. 

He's completely overwhelmed. He can’t stop the way he’s breathing - erratic, his whole body shaking with each breath - or the fact that with each thing Granby with his tongue does back there, he can’t hold in any kind of noise. No doubt the entire covert knows what they’re doing, and Laurence can’t bring himself to care because it just feels so good that he pushes back for more. He would beg, if that were in his nature. But even here, it isn’t, so he flings his hand behind him, sending the pillow tumbling off the bed, to grab hold of any part of Granby he can reach and force him to do something, _anything_ that might make him come. 

As though he heard Laurence's thoughts, Granby abruptly stops his ministrations and sits back, panting - Laurence swears at him, calls him something unforgivable, but Granby just laughs breathlessly and pushes his two slick fingers into him. They slide in so easily and the mint in the oil leaves a tingle that is unlike anything he’s felt before; Laurence has clenched down around Granby’s fingers and rocked back for more before he even realises what he's done. He shudders in mortification at his own desire and twists his hand in his own hair. 

"Enjoying yourself yet?" The smugness radiating from his former lieutenant is galling enough to make him prop himself up on his elbows and glare over his shoulder.

Granby waits until they're making eye contact before learning forward and biting him playfully on the ass.

" _John!_ " The plaintive cry mortifies him, and the moan that punches out of him when Granby's hot, wet tongue joins his fingers, has his face burning. He tucks his face into the crook of his elbow, and the comforting darkness makes it easier for him to thrust back and feel the pleasure being raked over his most sensitive skin without shame. Laurence gives up on words altogether and just moans, rutting backwards with his hips to drive Granby's fingers in harder. He nearly sobs when Granby pushes his tongue deeper and then retreats, repeating the motions until he drags a long whine out of Laurence. 

"John - John, oh God, _fuck_ ," The profanity slips out of his mouth and behind Granby growls his approval, wrenching another ridiculous noise from him, " - Jesus, Mary, and Joseph - oh do that again --" 

Miraculously, Granby does. He fucks Laurence with his tongue and fingers, finds the spot inside him that makes his hips jerk and his cock drip all over the sheets, he abuses it mercilessly. He hums and moans while he laps at Laurence's skin, drinks in every gasp, every break in Laurence's voice like his favourite vintage of wine. Laurence rolls his hips, fucking himself on Granby's long fingers, his hot wet tongue, feels oil and saliva slipping down his thighs, the blood thundering behind his eyes scrunched tightly shut, how much Granby is _enjoying_ himself, and the last shreds of his dignity leave him. 

"John, John - _please_ \- " 

He hears Granby's breath catch in his throat, but he slows his ministrations instead of increasing them, and Laurence snarls in frustration at the pleasure being forced on him, at his own helpless reactions, at John _fucking_ Granby who is to blame for both of those things, and the only one who can grant him the relief he craves. 

" _Please_ , John," He grits out a second time. The breathless swearing behind him only slightly pacifies him, but then Granby's free hand smooths through the mess on his thighs and wraps around his cock, hot and slick, but it’s the cold tingle of the mint oil that makes him cry out. 

"As you wish," Granby murmurs, and then Laurence has no breath with which to moan. His gasps are harsh and shallow, in time with Granby's hands, arching his hips up, blindly following his rhythm. Granby spreads his fingers out, just a little bit, and if Laurence had the breath in his lungs he would howl. 

" _John_ ," It's the only word he knows, and he rasps it with every exhale, clutching convulsively at a fistful of his own hair, "John, John, _John_ —"

He comes after half a dozen strokes, and out of his throat rips a noise of deep relief. 

Everything goes blurry and he wobbles dangerously as the tension that was holding him upright abruptly vanishes, but Granby has an iron grip on his hips and doesn’t let him fall. Instead he pushes his legs together and slides his cock between Laurence’s slick thighs and takes his own pleasure. Through the fog in his head and the ringing in his ears, Laurence vaguely registers what he’s doing and tries to tense his thighs, as he can’t do anything else to help Granby along. But maybe the sight of Laurence fucked completely senseless was enough, because it barely takes a minute before Granby bites into Laurence’s shoulder and comes hot and wet between his thighs.

Finally, Laurence is allowed to collapse down onto the bed. The sheets are absolutely ruined, but he can't make his eyes focus so he doesn’t care. He feels Granby fall next to him and sling an arm across his back. Laurence doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, and the next thing he knows he’s shivering as a strong gust of wind blows the window wide open. 

Granby curses and struggles upright to close and lock it properly. Laurence’s breath catches in his throat. Granby’s chest is alabaster white in the moonlight, and the bruises on Granby’s hips and shoulders he has left from previous nights stand out like splotches of ink. Granby catches his eye and smiles as he lays back down next to him.

“Do I get to be the one to say ‘I told you so’?” He teases as he pulls the covers up over them. Laurence blushes and throws his arm over Granby’s waist.

“Go on then,” He says, accepting his defeat with good humour. It was hard to be anything _but_ good humoured after that overwhelming experience, “You were right, I was wrong.”

“So you admit you did enjoy getting driven _wild_ by nothing but my tongue,” Granby says smugly. Laurence decides that is quite enough bragging, and takes a leaf out of Granby’s own book to silence him with a kiss. He pulls Granby in close and presses their mouths together before he remembers where Granby’s lips had previously been. He tries to pull back with a squawk, but Granby gets his hand in Laurence’s hair and holds him still while he moans and kisses him thoroughly. 

Eventually he is released for air. He knows he’s staring wide-eyed at Granby, but he can’t stop his gaze from flickering down to Granby’s grinning mouth. 

“Why, Laurence I’m shocked, don’t you know where I’ve been--” 

Laurence has pushed him to the edge of the bed before he has even finished talking.

“Go and wash your face,” He orders. Granby obeys, laughing as he crosses the room to the washstand. Laurence rubs the edge of the blanket across his mouth, hiding his own smile, “You may boast in your accomplishments John, but I seem to recall your hands were involved, not just your tongue,” He continues as Granby climbs back under the covers and into Laurence’s arms.

“Well then,” Granby says with a truly dangerous look in his eyes, “Next time I shall keep my word, and my hands to myself.”

Laurence finds he really can’t argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, please leave a comment if you liked it!!


End file.
